A Little Bit of Monica
by Finner
Summary: After an accidental run-in with Padfoot, Wormtail, and Prongs on the night of a full moon, Monica Dyer exposes herself to a year of life-threatening secrets, a series of disastrous Potions classes, priceless yet highly dysfunctional friendships, and a newfound purpose in a life that was once so unbelievably dull.
1. The Full Moon

_Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series._

* * *

 _ **Chapter 1  
**_ The Full Moon

* * *

The thing about life was that it never got tired of throttling your very physical, mental, and emotional being at any given time possible. Even if you think things couldn't _possibly_ get worse, I'm telling you now with all my heart and soul that it _can_. Life will eat you up, grind every single piece of you into despicable crumbs, then spit you out so you can live to tell the pitying tale.

Of course, it's all very dramaticized. Is there anything in the world that isn't? That also happens to be a dominant trait of mine: dramatizing things. My best friend, Lacey Fenwick, never stopped reminding me. So she wasn't surprised when I clutched a creaseless rose-scented piece of parchment with disgustingly perfect loopy handwriting almost as if decorating the letter rather than conveying a message; my eyes blazed and shoulders shook in furry.

My wand offered a ball of light that allowed my eyes to skim through the letter again and again, an irrational part of me desperately hoping this was some sort of practical joke my father organized. It wouldn't have been the first time, but he never went as far as using my mother as a punchline. In fact, we never used to mention her at all until she showed up on my doorstep the same day I got my Hogwarts letter.

I'll say it now: a cramped living room with Professor Dumbledore, Muggle father, and previously nonexistent mother was probably the most uncomfortable experience of my entire life.

As I stared dumbfoundedly at the letter, I was well aware of Lacey's vexing breaths down my shoulder, not at all bothered by the concept of my personal space. Over the years of our friendship, I'd accepted this irritating part of her but I appreciated some effort in being more subtle in poking her nose into other people's businesses. Alas, with Lacey, I realized my complaints were sucked in one ear and pooped out the other.

When my eyes began to water reading the same words over and over, I took it as my cue to finally put the parchment down. Lacey, who sat next to me in my four-poster bed in Gryffindor Tower, watched me with careful eyes. My breathing slowed; I grabbed the nearest pillow, stuffed my face in, and muffled a frustrated scream.

Lacey rubbed my back in pity. "There, there, Monnie. Christmas with the French mum doesn't sound _so_ bad. Imagine the cute French boys!"

I sat up, looking at her incredulously. "You mean my cousins?!"

"Pureblood families are into that sort of stuff!"

"What, like _incest_?" I exclaimed in utter confusion.

A loud groan sounded from the other side of the room and a makeup kit flew in our way, crashing into my side table.

"Will you two shut up? Some of us are trying to sleep!"

With a sigh, Lacey pulled my curtains down and cast a silencing charm around us. I still looked at her with a mix of incredulity and despair.

"What am I going to do, Lacey?" I moaned. "I don't want to spend Christmas in France! I don't even speak a word of French! Last time I was there, they'd only speak French when I was around and I'm pretty sure they were calling me ' _Midget Muggle_ ' the whole time."

Lacey scrunched her eyebrows. "You're not even short."

"Well they're all freakishly tall so I guess five foot five doesn't make the cut," I said bitterly, falling back on my bed.

Lacey rolled her eyes. "Monica, you're overthinking again. It won't be as bad as you make it out to be if you actually think positive for a change!"

I pretended to consider her advice. "Hmm, okay then. I'm _positive_ that I'm going to have the shittiest Christmas of my life."

Lacey was unimpressed.

I sighed and for the sake of my best friend, I decided to humor her. "You know what? I'm going to write to my dad, tell him about the situation, and just let him handle it. I mean he's done it before when my mum tried to get me to spend last summer with her."

"That's the spirit!" Lacey cheered.

I chuckled at her enthusiasm, surprisingly feeling better after formulating a plan. It was during times like these that I really needed Lacey's overwhelming optimism. Without her, I probably would have already died of sulking a long time ago. Her look matched her flowery personality, blonde locks of hair typically pulled up in a high ponytail, smooth unblemished skin, and big round blue eyes that always seemed alight.

On the other hand, my look almost completely contrasted hers, hair jet-black, eyes brown, and pale skin specked. Ever since my mother's efforts in including herself in my life went from negative five to five thousand, my dad had less of a problem bringing her up in conversation. Most of the time, his comments stuck to the topic of my appearance and how uncanny the resemblance with my mother was. He never mentioned if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

I felt a shift on my bed and I turned to see Lacey pulling my curtains up and sliding off the sheets.

"It's a Monday tomorrow," she said begrudgingly, "and I can't be late for Potions again. Wake me up will you?"

After convincing her that I would wake up on time, she passed out on her bed almost instantly. Her ability to sleep instantaneously seemed like a skill only someone as free-minded and stress-fee as her would have. Unfortunately I didn't quite make the criteria for it. I laid awake on my bed, staring out the window where a silver full moon floated over Hogwarts grounds. The cool October air filled the room and the whistles of the Whomping Willow faintly danced around my ears.

Unable to sleep for another half hour, I grew restless. Sitting up, I caught a peaceful sight of the Black Lake where it seemed even the Giant Squid dozed quietly. The wind was crisp as leaves waltzed in the breeze. The only source of light was the moon and a few dimly lit lanterns outside the castle. Feeling the sudden urge to take a walk, I pulled my cloak over my pajamas and clutched my mother's letter in my fist.

I tiptoed out of Gryffindor Tower, feeling the rush of adrenaline and excitement from being out of bed after hours. Walks were generally something I liked to do when something bothered me but somehow I never felt the need to do one nearing midnight. There was just something about my mother's audacity to make plans for me as if she hadn't missed out on the first eleven years of my life.

Admittedly, there were things I learned from the forced lunches and short-lived family gatherings in France during the holidays that I never would have gotten from my dad such as wizarding culture and traditions as well as lady-like behavior and appearance.

Nevertheless, I never would have traded being raised by my dad with anything. I was a proud and stubborn Londoner who grew up watching football in pubs and toasting beer with random strangers donning the same jerseys. Once my mother bulldozed her way into the picture, she never stopped trying to mold me into some wine-tasting, frilly dress-wearing priss.

Too kept in my thoughts, I hadn't realized I already reached the exit to the Black Lake until I felt the cool breeze nip on my exposed skin. The light of the moon was impressively bright and I slowly stepped into the grassy area. It was odd to see a place that was usually bursting with students at noon completely empty and at peace. I walked towards the calm lake and sat a few meters before the edge.

I briefly closed my eyes at the serenity of it all, finally letting my thoughts slip away. My hand fiddled with the fancy parchment in my cloak before deciding to pull it out and examine it once more. I felt I already memorized its contents so I recited the words as I read.

"' _Surprise, my Monica! You are coming to Chateau Bordeaux this Christmas! I will see you very soon! Je t'aime!_ '" I snorted before finally crumpling it in my fist. "See you very soon… She's lucky if she'll even get a bloody Christmas card from–"

A loud doleful howl suddenly emitted in the air. Caught off guard, I jumped to my feet. Fear quickly pumping my veins, I took a few steps back. The sound seemed close but not close enough to be in the exact area. It came from inside the forest and suddenly a walk outside under a full moon didn't seem like the brightest of ideas.

Trying to push away the nagging voice in my head of student gossip about werewolves inhabiting castle grounds, I whipped my head around the seemingly empty field of grass. I cursed myself for being stupid enough to leave my wand in Gryffindor Tower, but I didn't think any danger would come from being no less than twenty meters away from the castle.

The edge of the Forbidden Forest was just on the other side of the lake but it wasn't close enough to cause any major panic. I could hardly feel my limbs, my feet pressed on the ground and my eyes wildly shifting around to detect any sort of movement.

When a few more seconds of nothingness passed, I wondered if I was just being paranoid. My breathing slowed and I could feel my blood pumping through my veins again. I sighed. It was definitely time to head back.

But just as I turned back towards the castle, a great white stag galloped in full speed towards me. My first instinct was to scream but as quickly as I took a deep breath of absolute fear, the stag turned into something tall and bulky and I was tackled down. I tried to scream but something, likely a hand, was pressed against my mouth, my desperate shouts turned to pitiful squeaks.

I realized quickly I was tackled by a person, specifically a tall boy who was easily able to pin me down by his sheer size and strength. Once I managed to focus my pupils in one direction, I caught a glimpse of the boy's face, round spectacles framing a pair of familiar hazel eyes and messy black hair across his forehead. I was able to connect the face to a name in a second.

" _James Potter?_ " I exclaimed, but the hand over my mouth only managed to produce something like ' _Hems Pupper?_ '

His hazel eyes narrowed and he rudely shushed me. Somewhat offended, I continued to scream, or squeal rather, and struggle until even he had enough.

"Oi, will you cut it out?" he whispered snippily. "I'm saving your bloody life here!"

That caught my attention. I stopped screaming and let myself breathe, only realizing how tired I felt from all the struggling. I tried to give him a questioning look but he turned his gaze away from me and to something on the side. Following his line of sight, I noticed a skittering movement towards us. As it got closer, my eyes widened in panic when a brown rat came to full view. My violent struggling ensued.

"Bloody–" James cursed as he struggled to keep me down. "It's not– It's not a real rat! Will you calm the fuck down?"

Just as he said it, the rat did transform into something else: another human being. My body went limp and I merely stared, unable to comprehend anything anymore. What the hell was going on?

"We lost him," the other boy said, watery blue eyes panicked and afraid.

"Where's Padfoot?" James demanded.

"He tried following him but I knew it was no use. He should be heading back by now."

"That idiot!" James growled, looking back down at me and glaring as if everything were my fault.

I lost all energy to struggle against his weight but I still managed to give my dirtiest glare back for a reason I was still completely clueless about. I had no idea why he was mad or why plumpy next to him looked as if he'd just seen You-Know-Who in the flesh. I had so many questions but James' hand seemed glued to my mouth, probably afraid I'd start screaming my lungs out if he let go.

A minute ago that was exactly what I would have done but I realized we were all out of bed after hours and the two boys I was with didn't look like they were just enjoying an evening stroll around the Black Lake before I came. The last thing I wanted to happen was get caught but knowing how fast my good luck ran out, I expected that was exactly what was going to happen if this continued.

"Will you please let go of me?" I tried to politely ask, James' hand reducing the question into mere muffled sounds but the point came across.

"And let you scream like a bloody Banshee and get us caught?" James snapped. "That's likely."

"I'm not going to scream," I said, but in the corner of my eye I spotted a large rabid dog that slowly approached the plump boy's behind. My violent screaming returned and I pointed my finger in panic to warn the boy of the beast.

"Hey, hey! Calm down!" James said impatiently, gripping my shoulder to keep me still.

My temper flared at his attempt, heart beating fast against my chest as I continued to panic at the sight of the dog. I quickly connected the howl from earlier to the animal and I was convinced I wasn't seeing breakfast the next morning. The plump boy finally noticed the source of my panic and to my surprise, a large smile appeared on his face. My screams died out.

"Padfoot!" the boy exclaimed.

"Peter, keep your bloody voice down," James hissed, looking exhausted from holding me down. He had shifted from hovering directly above me to sitting on the grass by my side, hand still over my mouth but my shoulder finally released.

Turning back to the big dog and the plump boy called Peter, my eyes widened when the big dog was no longer. Next to Peter was Hogwarts' favorite eye candy in all his might, Sirius Black, dark hair pushed back and stormy eyes narrowed directly at me. A wave of silence passed, the heaving breathing of James filling the stale air.

I tried sitting up, my back suffering fatigue from the hard soil. James felt his hand on my mouth shift but I like to think he saw the discomfort on my pitiful expression that he finally released his hand without a word. I didn't have the energy to speak at first so my eyes darted around the strange group, taking in Sirius' frustration, Peter's confusion, and James' burnout state.

"What the bloody hell just happened?" I finally managed to croak out.

A faint howl echoed in the distance. None of them even flinched.

Sirius chuckled darkly. "Sweetheart, you picked the wrong night for a stroll."

Staring at the three exhausted Gryffindor seventh years that I could have sworn a moment ago were animals, I realized he was right. I couldn't have possibly picked a worse night to contemplate by the lake under a full moon on the disappointment that is...well, me. Life - 176, probably. Monica - 0, as expected.

* * *

 _ **A/N**_

 _ **Haha, well this is my attempt at a romance comedy fic. I typed this down at the spur of inspiration and it felt weird not to publish so yeah. I'll see where this goes. :)**_

 _ **-Finner**_


	2. The Morning After

_Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series._

* * *

 ** _Chapter 2_**  
The Morning After

* * *

I slumped on the comfy red couch of the common room, fire rustling lightly from the fireplace and illuminating the area a dim yellow. I could feel a hundred different emotions pulsating inside me but if I were to summarize them into one, I was just thoroughly, positively vexed.

Who the hell did those bloody Marauders think they were, tackling me in the middle of the night _as animals_ and offering no explanation whatsoever? As soon as I demanded for one, Black shut me down with a look that screamed 'Do I look stupid to you?'

It astounded me that they thought I didn't deserve any bit of information after scaring the living shit out of me. I mean, I didn't see anything life threatening aside from that sodding dog before he turned into Sirius Black, but the look in James Potter's eyes when he spoke to Peter Pettigrew about what I assumed was Black's whereabouts projected that _something_ was out there.

It was ridiculous that they thought they could just assign Pettigrew to escort me upstairs and forbid me from leaving Gryffindor Tower for the rest of the night. I mean, okay, that was exactly what happened, and sure, I didn't put too much of a fight (I was still in shock!) but if they thought I'd even forget about that encounter for a second, they've never been more wrong.

I had to gather some third year knowledge to remember the term that identified wizards who could transform into animals but it was ridiculous to suggest that those three pranksters had the magical ability to become _Animagi_ while they were still in Hogwarts. James Potter looked like his only talents consisted of Quidditch and hexing Severus Snape and I don't think I'd ever seen Sirius Black do anything exceptional besides looking impeccably fit. Don't even get me started on Peter Pettigrew.

The only one who _didn't_ look like all his brain neurons underwent synaptic pruning was Remus Lupin, who was curiously separate from the group that night. Perhaps he decided he wanted nothing to do with their sketchy midnight escapades by the Black Lake, supporting my assumption that he was the only one who used his brains in that group of theirs.

Out of things to do, I reached in the pocket of my robes to fiddle with the letter from my mother again only to find nothing to grab. I groaned, assuming I lost it between struggles against James bloody Potter. Again, the universe offered nothing substantial for my disastrous night.

Minutes turned to hours and before I knew it, I was dozing off by the fireplace. Only at the faint sound of a slow creak did my eyes flutter open and my consciousness registered the pain in my neck. Couches hardly offered comfortable sleeping positions, and at the twist of my back towards the entrance of the common room, a pang pretty much cemented that fact.

I was groggy and out of focus. What the hell was I doing sleeping in the common room again?

"Prongs, you're not going to believe this."

"What?"

"The girl is _still_ here."

Finally, my eyes managed to focus on the faces of three exhausted seventh years and I shot up from the couch, memories of the night flooding back.

"You bloody arseholes!" I wildly exclaimed.

Pettigrew squeaked in fear.

" _Jesus_ ," Sirius Black hissed. "Anyone ever teach you to use your inside voice? People are sleeping up there!"

I growled, feeling the sudden urge to throw my wand at his head. "Are you kidding me right now? What the _hell_ happened down there? You still own me an explanation!"

"You're adorable," James Potter said, a patronizing smile on his face. "If anything, you should be thanking us because we bloody well saved your life!"

Black shot him wide-eyed look. Potter apparently realized his mistake and appeared to find something interesting in the notice board.

"Saved my life from what exactly?" I demanded, taking advantage of Potter's slip. "Has this got to do with You-Know-Who?"

With the wizarding world at war, anything even remotely terrible was possibly connected to that Muggle-despising freak.

"Are you mad? We've got _nothing_ to do with Voldemort," Black said snippily, apparently a touchy topic.

"I _meant_ ," I said, patience thinning, "were you saving me from one of _his_ lot?"

" _No_ ," Potter said as if the idea was completely preposterous. "Even if Death Eaters like Snape are allowed to run amok in campus–God knows why–Hogwarts is still safest place to be right now."

"Then I can't imagine why a stag would have to tackle me down while I'm minding my own business!"

"You were out of bed after hours!" Pettigrew attempted.

I was seriously starting to doubt this boy had brain cells at all. Based on the look Potter gave him, I was sure he was doubtful too.

"Um, _so were all of you?_ "

"Okay, that's enough! I'm gonna go insane with you lot," Black said, looking thoroughly annoyed. Then he faced me, beads of sweat trickling down his forehead. "Who even are you?"

I tried not to look too insulted.

"Monica," I said dumbly.

Black's eyes squinted ever so slightly. "Monica _what_?"

"Sorry. Dyer. Monica Dyer. I'm in sixth year."

"Hold on, I recognize you," Potter said, narrowing his eyes and approaching me slowly.

"Er…" I said incoherently, my cheeks heating up. He couldn't possibly have noticed…

"Yeah, you're that kid who watches all our tryouts and practices," Potter said, laughing almost. "Always early to matches too."

"I'm only a year younger so _kid_ isn't exactly–"

Pettigrew barked out a laugh from the wall he casually leaned on. "So she fancies Prongs? No wonder she's so interested in what we're doing."

"Okay, first of all, cocky much?" I said with the last essense of dignity left. "Second of all, I just happen to be an avid Quidditch fan."

"But you don't even play."

"Potter, it's astounding that you have the mental capability to become an Animagus when you can't even comprehend the possibility that people who _don't_ _play_ Quidditch can actually be big fans too," I spat. "I'll just tell the rest of Gryffindor House how unimaginable that is and you can have no one cheer during the match against Slytherin."

An uncomfortable silence fell upon the group and for a split second of stupidity I'd thought it was because of my stellar comeback. Another look at their locked jaws and uneasy expressions though, I realized it wasn't because of my sharp tongue. The mention of their uncanny ability to turn into animals brought the main topic back to light.

"Okay, listen here, Dyer," Black began slowly. "You _cannot_ tell anyone about that. Actually you can't tell anyone about _everything_ that happened tonight. _Please_."

I studied his gray eyes as they looked almost pleading. Potter watched our exchange, lips in a thin line.

"I want an explanation," I said, standing firm.

Potter sighed in frustration, grabbing Black's shoulder to get his attention. "Let's just take her to Dumbledore and let him handle it."

"And what's she supposed to tell him?" Black said. "As soon as he finds out all four of us were outside at this exact night, he'll know somethings up! I don't know about you but I'd rather no one else finds out about us."

"Hear, hear," Pettigrew agreed.

Potter and Black continued their conversation in whispers. I frowned, suddenly bothered by their missing friend. If I heard him correctly, Black said _four_ of them were outside, not three. So where on earth was Remus Lupin during that whole fiasco? Suddenly the puzzle pieces slowly fell into place but I couldn't quite get to a conclusion.

I replayed the entire night from the spine-tingling howl down to Black's appearance. I could clearly see the panic in Potter's eyes when Pettigrew discussed something that went lose, something that Black attempted to continue chasing.

A dark wizard? A giant? A bloody Chimaera? What could possibly be so dangerous that the three seventh year Gryffindors needed to turn into fucking animals to face?

My eyes shifted to the nearest open window in the Gryffindor common room where the cool breeze seeped into. It was nearly dusk by the looks of the lightened sky. The silvery figure of the full moon was still in view but in the next half hour it would disappear with the darkness.

I blinked in sudden realization. ' _As soon as he finds out all four of us were outside at this exact night…'_

The soft sound of a closing door resounded in the common room, bringing me back to reality. Potter and Black stopped their whispered bickering and I merely stared at them both unable to believe what could possibly be the only logical explanation of the night. When my eyes met Black's, I think he knew I figured it out.

"We have to go before everyone wakes up," Potter said, already striding towards the boys staircase. Pettigrew followed swiftly behind him.

Lagging behind, Black stopped next to me before heading up with the two.

"We need to trust you, Dyer," Black said lowly.

I absently nodded, head still processing the new almost horrifying information. Black seemed to be satisfied by my unenthusiastic response and turned to follow his friends. Before he could leave however, I couldn't stop myself from saying, "I hope he'll be alright."

Black gave me a curious look before finally heading up. After about five seconds of standing like an idiot in the middle of the common room, I realized I could still catch at least an hour of sleep before breakfast.

As soon as I walked in my dormitory, exhaustion took over and I collapsed on my bed.

* * *

"Monica! Oh, for Heaven's sake, _wake up_!"

A hard shove instantly brought me to consciousness. Eyes snapping open, I absentmindedly took in Lacey's disheveled blonde hair, watery eyes, and furious expression.

"Wha–"

"You bint! You said you'd wake me up in time for Potions!" she hissed.

Merlin, what time was it? Catching a glimpse of the clock, I felt all the color drain from my face.

" _Shit_!"

Lacey and I wasted precious five minutes arguing about who'd shower first. We were nearly half an hour late for our first class without bloody food in our system. By the time we left the dormitory, our ties were still undone, collars askew, and hair soaking wet. We hurriedly fixed ourselves as we walked, deserted hallways mocking our tardiness.

"Where the hell did you go last night?" Lacey said as she performed a heating charm on her hair.

"Who said I was anywhere?" I lamely attempted despite knowing she'd see right through me.

"There were _twigs_ in your hair."

Thankfully the door to our classroom came to view before I was forced to give a reply. We noisily entered but definitely looked more acceptable than we did leaving the common room. Professor Slughorn stopped mid sentence as we scrambled to the vacant seats at the back of the classroom. Some of the Slytherins snickered at our embarrassing entrance but the Gryffindors looked amused.

"Miss Fenwick, Miss Dyer," Slughorn said, a slight frown on his plump face, "nice of you to finally join us…" He checked the clock on the wall. "Thirty four minutes late."

I nervously waved. Lacey attempted to smile.

"Miss Fenwick, this is your fourth tardy this year. " Slughorn gave Lacey a stern look. "I daresay you're making a record of most tardies before Christmas break."

Lacey's face dropped. I almost laughed.

"Meet me here Saturday after dinner," Slughorn drawled, slowly returning his attention to the board. "The first years are just beginning to brew and many of the desks require intensive cleaning."

Fortunately for Lacey, Slughorn didn't acknowledge her for the rest of the period. We were actually quite lucky we managed to catch up to class before they started brewing the potion of the day. Lacey and I weren't terrible at Potions (I mean, we passed our O.W.L.s!) but Slughorn didn't particularly like us because of Lacey's offhandedness. The fact that I hung around her so much already gave him the impression that I could be the same, so despite being an above average potioneer, he rarely ever acknowledged me or my achievements. I was surprised he even remembered my name.

Nevertheless, it didn't bother me too much since apparently his favorites were forced to go to dinner parties that were dull as flobberworms. Perhaps the most disappointing thing about his neglect was not being able to go to his yearly Christmas bashes wherein he invites successful Hogwarts alumni and I heard last year, Tutshill Tornados' captain, Alexander Ridley, made an appearance.

That night I drowned myself in ice cream and lost dreams.

By the time Lacey and I finished Potions, we were all too ready to spend our free period in the kitchens for a heavy brunch. The house elves immediately provided us with leftovers from breakfast and Lacey and I practically inhaled our food on two wooden stools by a crackling fireplace.

Lacey, as assertive as she is, didn't waste time in resuming her interrogation.

"So where were you?"

"Lacey…" I sighed.

"What, you can't tell me?" Lacey scoffed. "Was it Carson Davies?"

"Wha–Carson… _What_?"

"The boy you spent the night with, duh."

"Lacey," I said, unamused.

"You mean to tell me I'm not supposed to assume you were down doing dirty business with Merlin knows who after finding _twigs_ in your hair?"

I stared at her, utterly perplexed and unable to comprehend what she was actually insinuating after the overwhelmingly terrible night I just had.

"Lacey," I began sternly, "there was nothing dirty involved unless you count James Potter _manhandling_ me by the Black Lake."

" _James–_!"

" _Lacey_!" I shushed her. Bloody girl never knew when to keep her voice down and mouth shut. When she actually tilted her head down in an effort to look _less_ conspicuous, I almost died of shock.

"Okay, let me just clarify," she said lowly. "You were out with _James Potter_?"

I sighed. "Definitely not in the context you're thinking, you bloody perv. But yeah. Him and his two sidekicks. Possibly the fourth too."

At the confusion etched across her face, I spilled from beginning to end. Lacey listened attentively and perhaps for the first time in a long time she managed to keep her big gob closed. I recounted the events in detail and she merely stared in bewilderment.

By the time I'd finished, we sat in a few seconds of silence as I assumed she tried to make sense of the whole story. I didn't leave anything out, including my more than likely correct theory about Remus Lupin's condition.

Between the two of us, Lacey was clearly more into the typical girly things, having greater appreciation for cute boys, fashion, and gossip while I read Quidditch magazines and had Muggle newspapers delivered from my dad just to know how Arsenal was standing in the English Football League. So to her, anything to do with the Marauders, the most fit and popular group of boys in Hogwarts, was a huge deal.

When Lacey finally spoke, her eyes were unusually dark, hand raking through her blonde hair.

"That can't be," she breathed. "Dumbledore wouldn't let… I mean, do you know how _dangerous…_ "

"I'm positive he knows about it," I said. "Potter suggested they just bring me to Dumbledore probably to swear me to secrecy."

"But you saw them too," Lacey said, understanding in her eyes. "Dumbledore doesn't know they run around with a werewolf once a month."

While I didn't understand why they would do that in the first place, it had to be the only explanation. Perhaps they made sure Lupin didn't wander too far? Making sure he didn't bite anyone in Hogwarts? It was bothering because Dumbledore couldn't possibly accept a werewolf without a full proof plan. I hardly doubted he'd let Lupin wander around Hogwarts grounds while he was in that state. I was missing _something_.

Based on the frown on Lacey's face, I knew the hole in my theory bothered her too. Alas, her curiosity only went so far, and since there was no way to settle our questions for now, she let the issue go as quickly as I confessed.

"I can't believe James Potter straggled you for ten minutes and you didn't snog him once."

I shot her a disgusted look. She merely shrugged then suddenly she burst into uncontrollable giggles.

"I can't believe he noticed you used to watch _all_ their practices!"

Cheeks burning, I gave her the most vicious glare. Trust Lacey to bring up the most embarrassing part of my story.

"You know I watched for the Quidditch!" I desperately defended myself.

Lacey continued to laugh at my expense. Despite the begrudging defensiveness, I probably would have found myself hilarious if I weren't… well, me. Let's say discovering the wizarding sport had me way too excited for a normal first year and I collected all the ruling books and history novels about the peculiar sport.

My dad, the outrageous sport fanatic, read and understood Quidditch rules and plays with me when I was home and while I was in school, I'd religiously watched Gryffindor's tryouts and practices, learning their styles and approaches.

Taking from my dad, I too fully invested in my teams. Once I cemented my Gryffindor pride, I was one of the loudest cheerers, biggest trash talkers, and proudest representatives of Gryffindor House. In the British and Irish Quidditch League however, I grew accustomed to the Tutshill Tornados.

Lacey always found this part of me amusing and it was even more hilarious that Gryffindor's captain and star Chaser actually noticed my "stalkerish tendencies" as she described it.

"I'm sorry, Monnie," she said in between laughs. "It's hilarious."

"I stopped watching _every_ practice in like fourth year," I grumbled.

"He must have been so creeped out!" Lacey guffawed.

"Or he thought I fancied him, conceited git."

It took Lacey another five minutes to calm down and only then did we decide to leave the kitchens and actually do something productive for once; we hit the library to finish our homework for afternoon classes. Being best friends with the queen of cramming pretty much everything, I'd get dragged into the nasty habit too from time to time. Lacey's tendency to leave things at the very last minute expectedly reflected on her unfortunate tardy record.

The rest of the day unfolded without conflict and I was in an unexpectedly good mood by the end of it. Lacey and I split up for our last classes, taking Ancient Runes and Arithmancy respectively, and we usually met by the Black Lake before dinner. By the time I arrived after getting dismissed a bit earlier than usual, the area was already filled with lounging students, some studying and most conversing. Majority of the students were sixth and seventh years, probably enjoying free period or skipping out.

On the stone window ledge I sat composing the letter to send to my dad about the Christmas situation, loud hearty voices stood out in the area. I glanced up and stiffened at the sight of three boys lounging by a tree about eight meters from where I sat. Two of them roared in delight at something Sirius Black just said, who was the only one standing and leaning against the tree trunk. The rest sat relaxed on the grass, James Potter practically on his back as if unable to keep himself upright in laughter.

Again, Remus Lupin was missing but that only further supported my assumption of his possible condition. He must have been in the hospital wing, sleeping off the eventful night.

On a side note, it was actually quite irritating to see the three Marauders at ease as if they didn't just spend the night running around castle grounds and dealing with a sulking sixth year. I mean, they didn't even have eyebags! How unrealistic was that?

After a few more seconds of bitter gazing, I turned my attention back to more important matters at hand: my Christmas plans. I continued scribbling the letter on my parchment, quill nearly poking holes at the aggressiveness of my writing. Just like that, the good mood was gone.

* * *

 ** _A/N_**

 ** _Hi! Inspiration stays and hopefully for long. I'd love to know what you all think. Happy New Year!_**

 ** _-Finner_**


	3. A Gryffindor's Woes

_Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series._

* * *

 _ **Chapter 3**_  
A Gryffindor's Woes

* * *

One could argue the best part of Hogwarts as a Muggle-raised witch was the grandeur of the castle or perhaps the mesmerizing magic you were likely to see every hall you go. Well, I dared to disagree.

There was nothing–and I meant, _nothing–_ better than Quidditch season.

So imagine me on the day of the first Quidditch match of sixth year, jumping out of bed by seven o'clock sharp and donning full scarlet and gold just in time for breakfast. By the time I was pulling on my socks, Lacey was only just stirring out of sleep. I saw her peek groggily behind her curtains from the corner of my eye.

"What in Merlin's omnipotent name are you doing up before the sun?" she asked.

"You know for someone who acts like a caffeinated unicorn half the bloody time I expected more appreciation for life's most abundant source of energy," I said humorously, striding to her bedside and raising her curtains up in one swift pull. Lacey hissed dramatically at the sudden light burning her skin. "It's also fifteen past seven and the sun's already up, genius."

"Are you psycho?" Lacey groaned as she buried her face in her pillow. "Close the damn curtains!"

"It's the first Quidditch match of the season, Lacey!" I practically yelled in her ear. "Get your arse–"

A heavy thump on the back of my head cut the rest of my sentence off. I stumbled clumsily into Lacey's bed.

"One more bloody word, Dyer!" Polly Stiles' hoarse tone yelled from the other side of the room.

I threw a glare at her direction, picking up the pink hairbrush she threw my way. "Have you lot ever woken up for breakfast at all? Most important meal of the day? No? Doesn't ring a bell?"

But Polly's body had gone limp in a second and she was snoring away. Next to her, the third sixth year Gryffindor girl pulled her curtains up revealing the no less than utterly pissed off face of Becca Smith. Sandy curls a royal mess and lips in a threateningly thin line, she squinted at me.

"Has anyone ever told you how abysmally loud you are?"

I've had a few complaints but I certainly wasn't going to lower my voice for a bint like her. Her and Polly purposely tried to ruin my first few years in Hogwarts by being catty and mean. Up until my third year, they spread rumors about my fanatic love for Quidditch, telling everyone I stalked the Gryffindor players to their shower rooms and took pictures for my scrapbook.

By our fourth year they discovered dating, boys, and raging hormones so bullying became less of a priority. Nonetheless, there was always a brimming amount of tension between the three of us that even as mature sixteen year olds (or however mature sixteen year olds could get), we couldn't seem to move past it.

As Becca and I continued our stare off, Lacey next to me finally sat up with a groan and tugged at my arm.

"She's not worth it, Mon," she grumbled. "Now get off. I'm gonna hit the shower."

"About time!" I cheered, jumping off her bed and rummaged through my trunk for my scarf.

"Where's Alex?" Lacey asked as she gathered her toiletries.

"Probably already down with the rest of the team," I said. "She's usually up before me on match days."

"Thank Merlin," Lacey mumbled. "It'd be a nightmare if you woke up earlier than the players themselves."

Before I could retort, Lacey shut the door behind her, the sound of water running filling the room seconds later. Thankfully both Becca and Polly dozed off and I was bizarrely patient waiting for Lacey to finish getting ready. The day of a Quidditch match put me in a mood so good I didn't care about having to rush to breakfast because Lacey took her sweet time washing her hair.

The Gryffindor common room was already empty by the time we were rushing to the Great Hall and the hallways were no different. It was a surprise however that neither of the teams were present at breakfast by the time we showed up. The ecstatic buzz in the room indicated the excitement everyone felt for the teams to walk in and the game to start.

Lacey and I took our places by the far end of the Gryffindor table, most of the seats already occupied. There was a large space by the middle, reserved for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Opposite me, Lacey filled her plate with bacon and eggs but I continued to scan the seats down.

My eyes lingered on three familiar seventh years barking in laughter right next to the empty seats. Remus Lupin was talking animatedly with his hands making wild gestures about what seemed like a thrilling story. Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew were laughing almost out of their seats.

I bitterly frowned at the sight of them. Did they know how to do _anything_ besides laugh?

"You could literally put Black in Slughorn's dress robes and I'd still stare at him all day," Lacey commented unabashedly.

I tore my eyes away from the trio and shot her a look. "Fit as he is, he's still a jerk."

"He was protecting his friend, Monica," Lacey said matter-of-factly. "Give him a break."

I softened, knowing full well she was right. It was unfair to judge any of them for that single night but it was hard to ignore them. Ever since that spectacle under the full moon, I encountered and noticed them more and more. It was frustrating to be constantly reminded of a huge secret that could put the entire student body of Hogwarts into panic if revealed. It was even more spine tingling that I was so close to being the first victim if it weren't for the three Gryffindor boys.

Suddenly the table erupted into cheers and I joined in almost immediately. They walked in as a group, James Potter leading as he received high fives and wishes of good luck along the way. Our roommate and Gryffindor Chaser, Alex Montgomery, strode confidently behind him, dark hair pulled back and eyes focused.

Next to her was Gryffindor's prized Seeker, Carter Robins, golden hair swept back and brown eyes twinkling in delight. His gait was strong and determined, clasping hands with fellow Gryffindors along the way. He received the same enthusiastic response from the crowd since he was easily Hogwarts' best Seeker (Well, Slytherins would have said Regulus Black but that was hardly relevant) and his easygoing humble personality only boosted his popularity.

Lacey was looking at me with a knowing weird look and only then did I realize I was smiling like a lovestruck idiot.

"Pathetic," Lacey said humorously.

"Shut up," I snapped.

* * *

As rudely mentioned by James Potter during our midnight spat after the full moon escapade, I typically showed up to Quidditch matches first. No matter how hard Lacey fought for her unfinished bacon and eggs, I wasn't giving in to anything for the best seats on the stands.

Half an hour before the match began, Lacey and I took our prime seats, three rows from the front and right at the center of the Gryffindor side. She chewed on a granola bar she managed to snatch before I pulled her out of the Great Hall and I sat on the edge of my seat, excitement in my veins.

"You know if I just knew how to ride a broom, I'd totally play Quidditch," Lacey said, admiring the view. "I can't believe Quidditch players get to _fly_ through this weather!"

"They get to fly through heavy rains and snowstorms too," I deadpanned. "You should totally try out."

Lacey shot me a mocking smile.

"Just a suggestion," I muttered humorously.

"You're such a load of bollocks," Lacey said. "I know _you'd_ play if you could."

Well, _obviously_.

"Debatable."

Lacey barked out a laugh.

"Sarcastic bint. When are you going to tell Carter Robins you want to rip his Quidditch robes off?"

I choked on my spit.

"Ooh, I hope it doesn't stop at that," an amused tone butt in.

Of all the possible scenarios Lacey decided to open her big fat gob, it just happened to be the exact moment Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew appeared on the stands behind them and took their seats.

Black was the one who spoke, gray eyes glinting and a smirk on his face. To his right was Lupin who quietly scanned the pitch, and to his left was Pettigrew who watched our exchange almost eagerly.

"Piss off, perv," I snapped at Black.

"Ouch," Black said, still smirking and not looking at all offended. "That's hardly the right way to treat strangers."

"Strangers who eavesdrop in private conservations, maybe," I said stubbornly.

"We were just taking our seats, enjoying the lovely weather!" Black said almost charmingly. "Just happened to overhear your pretty friend here."

I didn't want to see the look on Lacey's face, but I was pretty sure I heard a squeal somewhere there. _Pathetic_.

"Well, my _friend_ can't seem satisfied without everyone within a hundred mile radius hearing her fat mouth go off," I spat.

Ignoring Lacey scoff "I do not!", I narrowed my eyes at Black, suspicious about his motives. He acted as if he only just met me and that was no surprise. I was expected not to tell anyone, even Lacey, about what happened and I suspected he was bothering me to find out if I met that expectation.

I didn't want to drag Lacey into the situation so I humored Black, regarding him with as little familiarity as possible. I knew once he found out Lacey knew everything they wouldn't get off my back so easily that time around.

Thankfully our dialogue was cut short when the students began piling up in the stands and the Marauders were greeted by boys and girls alike. I'd lost count how many people they clasped hands with and the number of girls that attempted to strike conversation. This obviously included the pair of bints, Becca and Polly, fully awake and faces caked with makeup.

Becca threw me a glare when she realized Black and his friends were sitting right behind us and there was no more space around the Marauders for them to sit. Not at all surprisingly, she used this as an opportunity to be nasty to me instead.

"Early to the match again, Dyer?" Becca said. "And I thought you grew out your stalkerish tendencies in fourth year."

Black's eyebrows shot up comically, Lupin looked uncomfortable, and Pettigrew snickered under his breath. I felt the rage build up in my veins but held myself back from clawing Becca's eyes out. I tried to look unamused. Judging by the calming look Lacey was giving me, I don't think I succeeded.

"You boys better be careful," Polly addressed the Marauders, unceremoniously swishing her brown hair like she had a neck problem. "Monica has some issues with personal space."

"You're hilarious, Polly," I spat. "Do you need an extra pillow tonight?"

Black unsuccessfully held in a snort. Lupin covered his face in an attempt to hide a smile. Polly immediately stopped her ridiculous hair flipping.

"You know I think I see a few empty seats over there," Lacey said, squinting at an vacant spot all the way at the end of the stands. "Do you two mind? As if you'd understand anything going on from here anyway. At least down there you'll have a great view of James Potter's arse."

Becca's lip curled as I barked out a laugh. Polly shot us both a look of absolute hatred before dragging Becca away. Lacey and I celebrated our internal wins with a high five.

"Wow," Black said, looking dazed. "They were _mean_."

"You sound surprised," Lupin said, contributing in the conversation for the first time. I turned to look curiously at him.

"I've never met them before."

"Are you kidding?" Lupin said, chuckling disbelieving at his best friend. "They spend half their time getting as close to you as possible. I used to tutor the blonde in Potions and when she _wasn't_ asking me about you, she was trying to slip her hand in my trousers."

There was a range of reactions: Pettigrew cackled, Black roared in surprise, and Lacey and I groaned in disgust.

"It was nothing!" Lupin explained awkwardly. "She was just trying to get to Sirius through me!"

"A likely story, Moony," Pettigrew said humorously, patting him on the back.

Suddenly the light air disappeared between us. I was harshly reminded by the incident, triggered by Pettigrew's casual mention of Lupin's nickname. I caught Black's eye whose gray irises turned hard and I thought I saw him take a quick glance at Lacey.

Thankfully Lacey didn't seem like she noticed the sudden tension, humming quietly to herself and attention completely invested in the introduction of players. Though interestingly, Lupin didn't seem too bothered either.

"I'm Sirius Black, by the way," Black suddenly spoke after the stretch of silence. "This is Remus Lupin and that's Peter Pettigrew. I mean, if you didn't already know."

I wanted to scoff but curiously he didn't sound like he was bragging. It was a matter of fact, anyway, that they were the most popular boys in Hogwarts. It would have been laughable if we didn't know who they were.

"Lacey Fenwick, nice to meet you." Lacey held out her hand and Black shook it. "And well, this is Monica but I think–"

"Monica Dyer!" I butt in panickedly, vigorously shaking Black's hand and making a mental note to smack Lacey over the head after the game for her slip up.

Thankfully before Black could process any sort of suspicion, the commentator, Timothy Davies from Ravenclaw, began to introduce the Gryffindor Quidditch Team and the Gryffindors on the stands hopped up on their feet to cheer.

"Introducing Captain James Potter and his team, Montgomery, Kane, Gordon, Macmillan, Fredericks, and Brown!"

I whooped and roared at the sight of the Gryffindors circling the pitch on their brooms. James Potter handsomely waved as he passed our side, his team following behind him. I heard Sirius laugh and his voice boomed above the crowd.

"Hey, _Evans_!"

I jumped, spotting the addressee, who wasn't hard to pinpoint as she was the only one within a meter radius who wasn't screaming her lungs out. She was shooting a glare at Black, wavy red hair falling prettily down her shoulders but green eyes menacing.

"That was for you!" Black said gleefully, mocking Potter's wave.

Evans replied with an obscene hand gesture but Black continued to laugh.

"Hey, look at Carter," Lacey said, turning my attention back to the pitch. "He looks nervous, doesn't he?"

The teams were back on the grass as the captains shook hands. Carter Robins stood behind the rest, hand raking through his hair and eyes detached.

"He always looks like that before going against Slytherin," I said, not at all creepily (I hoped). "Regulus Black is the only Seeker who's beaten him since he joined the team. Carter's just got terrible luck."

"Slytherin _did_ win the cup last year because Regulus beat him to the Snitch."

"That was totally not his fault!" I said heatedly. "Gryffindor's Chasers were as sloppy as Wendy's french fries. The only one who looked remotely upright was James Potter."

"I wish you stopped using Muggle references as if I understood them."

" _And we're off!_ " Davies' commentating sounded as the Quaffle was thrown up and the game began.

Montague from Slytherin snatched the Quaffle first, connecting with his teammates through intricate passes before forcing the first save of the match. Theodore Fredericks confidently threw the Quaffle to Potter without failing to flash his middle finger at Montague.

"Not very professional by Fredericks," Davies said snootily, earning him a loud booing from the Gryffindor side. I screamed an array of curses, sick of his biased commentating.

As the match went on, it was particularly stressful. Both teams showed up big time and individual brilliance between the Chasers was minimal, both sets executing plays perfectly as single units. Yet even so, James Potter's talent still left spectators awestruck, considering he specialized in shooting that left Keepers completely dumbfounded.

I cheered with the rest of my house when Alex Montgomery and Harley Kane expertly dodged Bludgers as they passed the Quaffle like a hot potato between them and Potter acted as a decoy to the Beaters and the Keeper. Alex easily scored when the Keeper dumbly expected a last ditch reverse pass to Potter and at that moment Gryffindor led 60 to 50.

The game was half an hour in and neither Seeker seemed close to spotting the Snitch. The Chasers were still fully energized and the crowd was more than satisfied by the game play. I, personally, loved Chaser tactics and watching the six on the pitch was more enjoyable to me than any part of the game so I wasn't disappointed in the lack of action on the Seekers' part.

" _Penalty, penalty! Are you fucking blind, Hooch?_ "

I cursed in frustration when Slytherin Chaser Magden's cobbling went unnoticed since Madame Hooch was too busy telling off their Keeper for attempting to save shots behind the hoops.

Nevertheless, it was an hour in and Gryffindor were leading 150 to 110. The Chasers were starting to get sloppy and plays were becoming repetitive. The Slytherins had begun to get rougher and the Gryffindors were suffering.

"Alex doesn't look too good," Lacey said worriedly as her eyes followed our roommate who clutched her side in clear pain.

"That's because Magden is a right arse," I said.

Magden's been rough with his elbows all throughout the match and was only given a warning once. Alex was definitely going to experience some bruising before she could get help from the hospital wing.

"You Slytherins are whack!" Black's booming voice roared from behind me. "Magden, man the fuck up and play some real Quidditch, why don't you?"

Before I could even laugh, angry Gryffindors followed in pursuit with their own trash talk. Soon the entire Gryffindor side was yelling and booing against Edison Magden.

"Yeah, last time I checked, Chasers use their hands, not their elbows!"

"Grow a pair, Magden!"

"Did your corrupt father teach you to hit girls?"

"He should've taught you to play Quidditch instead!"

I closed my eyes and breathed in. Music to my ears.

Suddenly somewhere along the trash talking, there was a sudden burst of speed by the Slytherin stands. Immediately catching the eye of everyone on the pitch, Regulus Black was chasing after the Golden Snitch and catching up impressively quick was Carter Robins. After a beat of shocked silence, both sides of the pitch exploded into cheers for their respective Seekers.

In short time, the Seekers were neck and neck and flew so close to each other they looked almost like a single entity. Both of their arms were outstretched, palms open. They took a sharp turn, following the oval pitch.

I took a few seconds gazing in awe at their perfect balance and technique. It was obvious why Seekers required a slim body type. It was similar logic to footballers. When you're smaller, you're typically faster, well-balanced, and coordinated. Being a Seeker was all about that.

"Come on, Robins!" Pettigrew cheered.

We all held our breaths when we saw a hand reach, unable to tell at that second whose it was. But when the hand enclosed the golden ball and Regulus Black abruptly halted his broom, the Slytherins leapt out of their seats and roared in victory. Carter Robins steadily flew down to the ground, face hidden in shame.

Heartbeat ringing in my ears and slouching in dejection, I watched the scene before me dumbfoundedly, unable to comprehend pretty much anything. James Potter threw his broom to the ground in frustration and Carter Robins darted straight to the shower.

Next to me, Lacey was speaking but I couldn't hear her too well. The only thing my brain seemed able to process was the disappointment. Everyone did their part, playing their absolute best, and clearly showing all three houses that Gryffindor, captained under James Potter for his last year at Hogwarts, was here to win.

Carter Robins, the boy I not so secretly fancied since third year, may have lost it for us.

I was going to vomit.

"Monica… Monica! _Monica Dyer_!"

Snapping out of my inevitable swirl into chronic depression, I finally turned my head to acknowledge Lacey.

"Will you stop being so overdramatic?" Lacey snapped. "It's _literally_ the first match of the season!"

"We were so close!" I moaned. "I was so ready to wipe that bloody smirk off Magden's face."

"Ravenclaw will wipe it out for you," Lacey said, ever the optimist. "Anyway they got lucky!"

I sighed. "I'm not going to pretend Slytherin didn't play even remotely well. They were great until they decided to elbow Alex every chance they got."

"Actually, Slytherin won because Carter Robins has never beaten Regulus Black to Snitch," the quiet tone of Remus Lupin unexpectedly spoke up. He stood calm in between a dejected Black and a grumpy Pettigrew.

"But we won against Slytherin two years ago," I said.

"But Regulus caught the Snitch," Lupin said. "You ever notice Robins' demeanor is different before a Slytherin match? He doesn't think he can do it."

I wrinkled my nose. "I don't think it's fair to blame him. I mean everyone knows he's miles ahead of Regulus. He can catch the Snitch in twenty minutes against Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw."

"Don't get me wrong," Lupin said, a small smile on his face. "He's a fantastic player. I'm just inferring his bad streak against Regulus messes up his head and maybe that's why he underperforms during matches against him."

I blinked, considering Lupin's statements. It did make sense and I wondered why I never thought of it that way. I always saw Carter as someone who was so invested in Quidditch that his losses could be nothing but due to bad luck. Even the best sportsmen in the world experienced bad games here and there, but when they shone, it was extraordinary.

I guess I overlooked the human part of it all. Carter was capable of being nervous, even to the point that the disbelief he had in himself ruined his game.

"Wow, Moony, I didn't think you were such a Quidditch fanatic," Black chuckled.

"I don't go to Quidditch matches just to fawn over Prongs," Lupin said jokingly.

I abruptly shifted away from them, Lupin's light brown eyes seeming familiar almost. It was so unfair to associate him to something he couldn't control and act like he even lay a finger on me, but it was like I couldn't help it. Being around him was fairly easy but any mention that could relate to that night was spine tingling enough to get uneasy in his presence.

Lacey cleared her throat and I wondered if she felt the same way. I sincerely hoped not.

"Come on, Mon. Let's head to lunch," she said.

I silently nodded in response and watched as she took a step down the stands. Before I moved to follow, Lacey suddenly fell flat on her face on the step she took. I gasped and whirled around, confirming the only possible culprits.

Most of the Gryffindors had decided to sulk over lunch in the Great Hall so it wasn't hard to spot the pair of psychotic bints at the far end of the stands, Becca looking amused with her wand out and Polly laughing outright.

"Girls are brutal," Black said, looking unamused by the blatant bullying.

"They're pure evil," I snapped angrily, turning back to help my best friend.

Lupin beat me to it, however, already reaching out to help her up. Then suddenly, very uncharacteristically, a wave of what looked like fear washed over Lacey's pained expression and she flinched away from the helping hand.

Blood rushed up to my cheeks and I dared to glance at Black. Unsurprisingly his eyes darted furiously from Lacey, who was only realizing her mistake, to me with blatant distrust in his vicious look.

Again, when I thought my days couldn't _possibly_ get worse, this happened.

* * *

 _ **A/N**_

 _ **Not sure how to feel about this chapter. I'd love to know what you all think.**_

 _ **-Finner**_

 _ **PS- I hope you understood what happened at that last part, but the next chapter should explain it anyway. Haha.**_


	4. The Library of Banter

_Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series._

* * *

 _ **Chapter 4**_  
The Library of Banter

* * *

Silence was never more uncomfortable than sharing it with Sirius Black. His gray eyes were hard and cold; his stares could probably strip You-Know-Who of his secrets, and it was unfortunate that I was at the receiving end of them more often in the past month than probably any other student in Hogwarts.

Worst of all, I carelessly dragged my best friend into it and I wasn't quite sure how to get her or me out. The look on Black's face didn't suggest we could anytime soon.

We were the last ones on the pitch. The Slytherins were off celebrating and the Gryffindors were probably sulking over lunch. If Lacey and I were to be executed by Sirius Black's stare alone, no one would witness it.

I could almost imagine the engraving on our tombstones. _Lacey Fenwick and Monica Dyer: Death by werewolf discrimination._

"I can explain," Lacey suddenly spoke.

I tried to shoot her a pointed look, one that hopefully hinted her babbling about explanations was the last thing we needed. She purposely ignored me.

"I was the only one Monica told, I swear," she continued, boldly addressing Black.

"Wait," Lupin said, eyes uneasily darting from Monica to Lacey. "Told you what?"

It took a moment of silence and a shared look with Lacey before I almost laughed out of bitter realization. Did Remus Lupin have no idea?

"Moony," Black started carefully, "don't freak out."

"Why?" Lupin snapped.

Black shared a look with Pettigrew, who sat stiffly on a bleacher, before speaking again. Then he settled his eyes on me, jaw locked and nostrils flared.

"How much do you know?" he asked.

"Wait, someone explain to me what the hell is going on," Lupin said snippily, glaring at both parties.

"Dyer!" Black insisted and I flinched at his tone.

Lacey was up on her feet and held my wrist. She was clearly waiting for me to respond but the thoughts in my head spun like a tornado and I couldn't quite formulate anything coherent. Sensing this, Lacey spoke up on her own.

"All we know is what you all are," Lacey said vaguely.

Black's eyes flashed, still addressing me as he responded with, "I knew we couldn't trust you! Who else did you tell?"

"I told you, just me!" Lacey said, tone forceful enough to get Black's attention.

"What do you mean ' _what we are'_?" Lupin said, eyes blank and hands shaking. "Sirius, you better tell me what's going on before I hex you to Romania!"

Suddenly, Pettigrew from the bleacher pointed a finger at me and blurted, "This girl showed up last full moon and we had to get her out before you could eat her, Remus!"

Black hissed, "Peter!" as Lupin yelled, " _What?!_ "

Lacey and I watched blankly as the three argued in hushed, panicked tones.

"You gits! How could you keep this from me?"

"We knew you'd freak out!"

"We needed to know if she was trustworthy!"

"What in Merlin's name are you all still doing here?" the voice of a newcomer interrupted who happened to be James Potter standing in full Quidditch gear, dirt and grime on his arms, and a confused frown on his face.

His eyes scanned the group before growing the size of saucers as soon as he recognized me.

"What's she doing here?" he asked, voice hard.

"She knows," Black snapped, "and she told Blondie."

"But Moony–"

"I know too, arsehole," Lupin spat, eyes blazing in fury.

Suddenly the four boys bickered in raised tones, talking over each other like a bunch of angry pub regulars deciding which footballer deserved Man of the Match. Lacey and I stood there in silence and I wondered if they'd even notice if we left.

"You could've brought her to Dumbledore!"

"We weren't going to risk him finding out about us!"

"Better to risk trusting these people?"

Temper rising for God knows what reason, I opened my mouth and clearly said, "We're not going to tell anyone! So will you all shut up and listen?"

They fell silent at once, distrustful eyes narrowed at me and Lacey.

"Do you seriously expect us to trust you?" Pettigrew spoke first.

"I hardly think you have a choice," I said snippily, the growls in my empty stomach and leftover bitterness from the result of the Quidditch match fueling my responses.

The four boys exchanged wary looks before Black stood up straight, cleared his throat, and set his eyes on me.

"Tell me the truth, Dyer," he said. "How many people did you tell?"

"Just Lacey and only because she's my best friend!" I exclaimed in frustration. "We have no intention of spreading anything about your lot, okay?"

Lacey shifted next to me, voice firm as she added, "Even if we did, Dumbledore would have his wand up both our arses."

Potter's face scrunched up.

"She has a point," Pettigrew mumbled not so softly to his friends.

After a moment of silence, Lupin exhaled a heavy sigh and plopped on the bleacher next to Pettigrew. Black started mumbling to Potter while Lacey and I stood there like idiots.

While I understood the pressure they must have been in, I couldn't see why we were so untrustworthy to them. Okay, so we were complete strangers. We weren't even in the same year. They've probably never seen us in their entire seven years of attending this school.

Fine. So I _could_ see the logic of their wariness, but it wasn't like they had a choice. I don't know how many times they scoffed at the suggestion of taking us to Dumbledore and unless they were as unethical as the Death Eaters running around Britain, they couldn't just erase our memories against our will either.

The duration of the argument was unnecessary and I preferred having my lunch in the Great Hall where Carter Robins provided a view rather than the bloody kitchens. I was pretty sure if they couldn't reach a verdict anytime soon, Lacey and I would be stuck with the latter.

"Just let them go, Sirius," Lupin said, looking defeated.

I blinked in surprise. Lacey's grip on my wrist tightened.

"But Moony–"

"She's right," Lupin cut him off with a sigh. "We have no choice. If you don't want to take them to Dumbledore–"

"We're not going to risk getting caught and let you suffer those nights alone, Remus," Potter spoke up firmly.

My shoulders fell at his sincerity but I could've sworn Lupin teared up a bit. Yet the moment passed as quickly as it came and suddenly Black was all business. He crossed his arms and gave me a threatening look.

"Clearly we have no choice but to trust you here," he said, "but I want to ask something of you."

"What, a pinky swear?" I drawled, too eager to get this over with.

"No," Black said flatly, unamused by my sarcasm, while at the same time Pettigrew in the background daftly inquired, "The heck's a pinky swear?"

"Every time you even _think_ about telling another soul about us, I want you to remember that this isn't some third year broom closet snogging gossip. This is about a person's education, lifestyle, and well-being."

I found it harder to look at Black in the eye not because I was guilty of demeaning a person's entire life to Hogwarts gossip, but because of the intensity of his glare. I've never received a harder stare from anyone else but instead of spite, I felt respect for the boys in front of me, sincerely feeling the protective barrier they acted as around their friend.

Even cheesier, I don't think I've encountered anyone more _Gryffindor_.

* * *

I was more at peace the following days after the Quidditch match. Though still as bitter as Dad's morning coffee, the atmosphere after the disastrous match result didn't seem as depressing since the Marauders, Lacey, and I had that talk.

For one, it didn't feel like I saw them at every corner I turned. I'd only really notice them during meals, occupying the same seats and laughing at each other's jokes. Two girls or three would sigh in their direction but most students just sat around them, forming their own little groups while minding their own businesses.

Finally it actually felt like a regular school day. No drama; no werewolf-related concerns.

"Heard anything from your old man yet?" Lacey asked before sipping from her goblet.

My hands froze in the middle of cutting a piece of my chicken. Of course, in the midst of the Marauder fiasco, the imminent death by French verbal abuse awaiting me this Christmas completely slipped my mind.

I sent an owl to my dad a few weeks ago about the concern but I was yet to receive a reply. Now that Lacey so kindly reminded me of it, I panickedly wondered if his refusal to reply meant he couldn't do anything about my mother's insistence to spend Christmas with her or he was actually finding a way to keep his only daughter alive before the New Year.

"I'll take that as a no," Lacey said, eyeing my frozen figure.

Releasing a defeated sigh, I continued to slice (or stab) my chicken.

"Hey, maybe Martin's working it out," Lacey said, piling dessert on her plate.

"Please don't call him that."

"What, Martin?"

"Yes."

"But that's his name," Lacey said, reaching for another brownie square. "What else am I supposed to call him?"

I continued to chew aggressively on my chicken. "I don't know, my dad? Or you could call him Mr. Dyer like a normal person would."

Lacey rolled her eyes. "He said that makes him feel old!"

I looked at her, unamused. "If he's not old, then what is he?"

"Incapable of sending owls back on time, maybe," Lacey said, eyeing me pointedly. "You need to loosen up, Mon. Head to the library or something."

I tried to discern how she decided going to the library would help me loosen up. Before I could inquire however, a petite pigtailed Gryffindor approached Lacey from behind and tapped her on the shoulder. Lacey spun around and received the piece of parchment the kid was handing her.

She took one look at it and groaned in distress.

"It's from Slughorn!" she moaned. "Reminding me about my detention tonight. Bloody git, how'd he know I'd forgotten?"

"Maybe because you didn't show up the first time _because_ you forgot?" I said flatly.

Lacey shot me an unamused look then sighed before turning back to face the first year.

"Please tell me none of your potions exploded today," she said desperately.

The kid squeaked and ran off. I snickered to myself as Lacey groaned in despair and begrudgingly stood, abandoning the array of desserts on her plate.

"Have fun!" I grinned as she stalked off.

Finishing my dinner alone, I could see Becca and Polly laughing while pointing at me from the corner of my eye. Too exhausted to bother with them, I quickly finished my meal and left.

Ironically, I ended up taking Lacey's half-assed advice and found myself in the library on a Saturday night. I've never considered myself the overly studious type who visited the library at any given time possible but it offered the solace I needed after stress-ridden weeks.

Lacey must have noticed this, which explains her peculiar suggestion. A wave of affection for my best friend washed over me before heading towards the bookshelves.

For a Saturday night, the library had a fair amount of people catching up on work. It was understandable seeing as the semester was nearing its end and exams before the Christmas holidays were coming up.

Yet, I didn't have anything academic-related in mind. Instead I walked straight into the aisle that was categorized for magical creatures and transformations. I ran a finger across the row of books, titles varying from exotic magical beasts to the most complicated magical creature transfigurations. Right next to the biography of a wizard who spent fifty years of his life as a Chimaera, I got the jackpot: _The Duality of Animagi_

But just as I was about grab the book, another hand reached in and plucked the book out of its shelf. I flinched back, turning to face the culprit who scanned through the pages, fiery red hair pooling down her bent head.

Miffed by her manners, I cleared my throat to get her attention. She didn't seem to notice; her eyes were too invested in the book's contents. I crossed my arms and stared until her green eyes flicked up. She blinked twice before straightening up and addressing me.

"Yes?"

"Sorry, but I was supposed to get that book first," I said.

Slightly scrunching her eyebrows, she tucked the book under her arm and replied, "No, I was actually looking for this book from way down the aisle."

"Well, me too," I said, straightening up.

" _Well_ , I'm tutoring a _third year_ right now," she insisted, irritation lacing her tone, "and he left his copy in the dormitories."

I looked at her, open-mouthed. "Maybe you could, _I don't know_ , tell him to _go back and get it_?"

The girl scoffed, standing her ground. "I don't think you understand what I'm doing here. I'm offering academic aid to a struggling third year and you're trying to rid me of my teaching material for some _leisure reading_."

"Perhaps you could teach him some responsibilities too. Why would he go to a tutoring session without his book?" I snapped back.

"Probably because he doesn't want to study in the first place!"

"Yeah, probably not!"

Silence fell between us and we continued to glare, but the line of conversation seemed to go from arguing over the book to agreeing on the incompetence of her student. Despite myself, I let out a chuckle.

Soon after, the redhead burst into hysterical laughter.

I awkwardly stood as she clutched her stomach in hilarity. I joined her half-heartedly, partly amused, but mostly dumbfounded.

She managed to calm down when Madam Pince shushed her from the next aisle, wiping tears of what I _hoped_ to be mirth from her eyes. Sad to say, when she took in deep breaths, the tears didn't stop falling. She hastily wiped each drop but I could already tell something was definitely wrong.

"Er…" I began incomprehensibly. "You all right?"

" _God_ , no," she surprisingly replied in the same crisp tone, tears still flowing down her cheeks. "I'm so bloody tired teaching kids who don't want to be taught. That's supposed to be the professor's job!"

"So why are you doing it?"

She chuckled. "Because they ask me to. I can't say no to a professor."

"Er, yes you can."

She shot me a look. " _No_ , I can't."

I blinked at her insistence and I noticed a glint by the collar of her robes. At first glance, everything suddenly made sense. The glint was coming from the gleaming Head Girl badge pinned to her chest and I finally connected the face to a name.

Lily Evans wasn't someone I typically ran into during a normal day. Despite belonging to the same house, we never actually had a proper conversation; though I did recognize her from the Quidditch pitch.

"Here," Evans said, handing me the book.

My eyebrows shot up and I hesitantly accepted it.

"Thanks," I said sincerely. "What are you gonna do about your kid?"

"Tell him to get his bloody book or he's not getting any kind of tutoring from me," Evans said, sniffling but looking determined.

With that, she left the aisle. I felt a tad guilty fighting her for a book I didn't even technically need, but I liked to think I motivated her to stand up to her third year student… or something.

There was no reason to dwell on it further. I occupied a table by the back of the library, avoiding any awkward inquiries about my textbook choices. Looking thoroughly invested in a third year reading material could seem strange.

I skimmed through the first chapters, somewhat aware of all the information it offered seeing as I bent over backwards studying them for finals three years ago. The coverage was mostly objective and historical so the latter part of the book was untouched by my eyes. It covered the basic process, legalities, and repercussions and I read through quickly, fueled by my curiosity.

 _The process of Animagi is immensely long and difficult. Only wizards with impeccable patience and skill are advised to attempt. The procedure includes housing the leaf of a mandrake in one's mouth for a month, reciting a specific incantation every single day for the duration of the process, and drinking the Animagus potion during a lighting storm. The specifics of the procedure are available in advanced transfiguration textbooks as this is only catered for young minds._

 _The legality of being Animagi is rightfully strict, at least in Great Britain. Unregistered Animagi are sentenced to Azkaban as the skill can be abused in illegal contexts. However, registration is fairly simple and open to public which does not give Animagi reason to avoid it, unless acting against the law._

"Bloody hell," I mumbled, imagining how many serious Wizarding laws the Marauders were breaking once a month.

"Interesting read."

Every single strand of hair in my body shot up and my hands slammed the textbook shut in an instant. I looked up and saw Sirius Black looking back, clearly unamused. I risked a sheepish grin.

"Just some, er, leisure reading," I lamely attempted, mimicking Lily Evans minus the mockery.

"Nice try," Black said. "Didn't we tell you to stay out of this?"

"I can't exactly stay out of it seeing as I'm already _in_ ," I said snippily. "I was curious how you were able to do it."

Black raised an eyebrow. "Impressed?"

"Mildly," I admitted stubbornly.

Black snorted and took the seat opposite me. He leaned back and crossed his arms, an arrogant smirk on his face.

"Four Gryffindor boys successfully becoming illegal Animagi at fifteen years old is only mildly impressive for you?" he asked. "I didn't think you'd be so hard to impress, Monica Dyer."

"Tell me how you did it," I said boldly.

Black raised his eyebrows. "With lots of bloody patience."

"'Cause it took too long?" I nodded in understanding, recalling the tedious process the book vaguely explained.

But Black shook his head and said in all seriousness, "No, because Peter kept swallowing the bloody mandrake leaf."

I couldn't help a laugh and the atmosphere between us thinned. He reached for the book and examined the cover.

"If you want details, I suggest you look in the restricted section," he said. "You won't get anything from this third year textbook."

I wrinkled my nose. "I think I'll spare myself the details and just take your word for it."

Black smirked, but before he could retort, a familiar redhead appeared from the shelves behind him. Lily Evans stopped by our table, a suspicious look on her face as her green eyes darted from me to her fellow seventh year.

"You're disgusting," she spat at Black, who looked unfazed by her insult.

He replied with a heart stopping grin, balancing his chair's hind legs as he leaned back even further.

"You're really getting better at this whole _greeting_ thing, aren't you?" Black said humorously.

"Very funny," Evans said snippily. "What are you doing bothering innocent girls in the _library_ of all places?"

"I happened to be passing by," Black said lightly.

"People come here to study, Black. No one here's trying to get in your pants. I suggest you head to the Great Hall where the Hufflepuff bimbos are probably waiting for you to make an appearance."

Black cackled at her vulgarity. I watched their exchange with much amusement. I'd never much cared for Lily Evans' feud with the Marauders (unlike majority of the Hogwarts population who fed off this sort of drama) but watching them up close was actually quite entertaining.

Evans' quick tongue was impressive, but Black's ability to match up was very endearing.

"What did I ever do to you, Evans?" Black said, still smirking. "Or maybe you're just disappointed you ran into the wrong Marauder."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Evans snapped, cheeks tinged red.

"Oh, you know exactly what it means, Evans." Black grinned. "Oh, how rude of me. Have you met Monica Dyer? She's a new acquaintance."

"We've met," Evans said snippily, still glaring at him.

"I find her rather interesting." Black's mocking smirk turned to me. "She happens to have a sudden interest in Animagi. Or maybe she just flunked third year Transfiguration."

"Don't be so rude, Black. At least she's got thirst for knowledge."

"Oh, don't be talking about thirst with me, Evans; I've got plenty of those."

I shot Black an utterly disgusted look mixed with some amusement. If he weren't such a right arse, I'd actually find him quite hilarious.

Evans on the other hand didn't hold back in giving him the most menacing glare (maybe for the fifth time in this particular conversation). She definitely did those glares justice. It was frightening just being in her vicinity.

"I don't have time for this," Evans snapped. "I only stopped by because I thought you were bothering Monica."

"Dyer's far from being bothered," Black said lightly. "If anything, _she's_ the one bothering _me_."

I gave him a sarcastic smile as Evans stalked away with a huff. Black snickered to himself at his apparent victory then acknowledged me with another handsome grin.

"Oh, take a joke, will ya?"

"Doubt it was," I said.

"Not wrong there." Black shrugged. "Evans is a fascinating character. It's obvious she fancies Prongs but she's in the toughest state of denial."

"Prongs is James?"

"No, it's Peter," Black said, rolling his eyes as I looked unamused. " _Of course_ , James! Though I'm not surprised she only started showing signs when James stopped."

"Stopped doing what?" I couldn't stop myself from asking.

"Showing signs!" Black exclaimed. "He stopped asking her out! He stopped giving her gifts! He stopped opening doors for her!"

"Aren't boys supposed to be gentlemanly enough to open doors, regardless of romantic feelings?" I deadpanned.

"Really? Guess I never got the memo," Black said, me unable to decipher if his confused look was sarcastic or not.

The grin that followed gave it away though and I rolled my eyes. I wondered briefly how I found the time to banter with Sirius Black when I had more important things to do.

Like what, you ask? Homework, probably. Then I had a scheduled anxiety breakdown in my dorm room because of the looming Christmas break that my dad hadn't sent a word about.

That kind of stuff.

"As much as I hate to cut this short," I said as I prepared my things to leave, "Lacey's probably waiting for me in the common room."

"Nice try, Dyer," Black said, looking amused. "I know your friend's having the time of her life cleaning the first year dungeons with Slughorn."

I froze, blinking dumbly at him. "How–"

"Bumped into her outside the Great Hall," he continued with a smirk.

A crazy thought came in my head linking Black's convenient appearance in the library to mine but I erased the idea knowing Black wouldn't willingly look for me. He hated me after all.

"Well, explains how you knew I was here then," I dared to say anyway.

"Precisely," Black said almost immediately.

I lost my composure for a second, blinking absentmindedly at him before realizing how it probably looked like. Before Black could get any ideas that he affected me in any way besides blinding vexation, I hurriedly got out of my seat and wished him goodbye with narrowed eyes.

I didn't give him time to say anything in return but I heard an amused chuckle as I headed towards the door. In my hurry, I didn't realize another student was just entering as I exited until I crashed straight into his chest.

I fell on my arse at the impact but the boy barely even moved. I blinked the tears of sharp pain away and my eyes focused in a few seconds. I disgruntledly looked up but surprisingly he was on his knees next to me, stuffing my things back in my open bag.

He moved too quickly before I could say a word. Next thing I knew he was back on his feet, my bag in one hand and the other stretched out to pull me up. I took it instantly and let his firm grip pull me to my feet.

At the first full glance of his face, I almost gasped out loud. My first thought was Sirius Black but I just left him inside the library. Then I realized the slight differing features: thicker eyebrows, smaller nose, and a darker head of hair. And yet, he was almost like a carbon copy; the perfect curls, sharp cheekbones, and stony gray eyes were too on point that I had to look twice.

I saw Regulus Black quite often, despite being a Slytherin. He was in my year after all. But his resemblance to his older brother was something I never paid much attention to, especially since I barely used to see Sirius at all.

"Sorry," Regulus muttered before handing me back my bag.

"Thanks," I said with sincerity as I took it.

He gave me a formal nod before resuming his stride into the library. I stood in place for Merlin knows how long, contemplating on how strange this day turned out to be. When a second year Hufflepuff rudely asked me what I was doing blocking the door, I finally headed back to Gryffindor Tower.

* * *

 _ **A/N**_

 _ **I'm kind of back. Leave me a review. :)**_

 _ **-Finner**_


	5. Potions and Slugs

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series.**_

* * *

 ** _Chapter 5_**  
Potions and Slugs

* * *

I received word from my father a few weeks before the Christmas holidays. Thanks to the professors who were determined to get as much knowledge in our system before we fell into vacation mode, the looming doom of possibly spending the break with my mother almost slipped my mind.

Only when a large barn owl nearly landed on my breakfast plate did I remember my unfortunate situation. After a month and a half of waiting, I finally got my answer.

Bile rose up at my throat as Lacey eagerly released the letter from my owl, Tallie's leg. With as much decency as my owl who was currently pecking at my scrambled eggs, she ripped the letter open. Before she could run her eyes over it, I managed to get enough feeling back in my arms to snatch it out of her grip.

"What is wrong with you?" I hissed at her.

"Oh, please, you'd take ages to open it!" Lacey defended herself. "You were too busy staring at it like a bloody goldfish!"

I shot her a scathing glare, refusing to admit out loud that she was right. Now that the envelope was breached I didn't have much of a choice but to pull the letter out and read. Hoping for the best, I unfolded the parchment.

 _My dear Monica,_

 _I'm so sorry this took so long but I bear great news! It took some time, obviously, but I managed to convince your mother that it's best for you to stay home this Christmas. A small catch however is that since she refused to leave your side for the holidays, I may have offered to let her stay with us in London. But don't fret! She'll be bringing one of your cousins over from France. I hope you remember Clara Bordeaux? Because I haven't a clue! Nonetheless, we'll still be having a splendid time and you got your wish to stay here for the holidays! Happy daughter!_

 _Love, Dad_

 _PS- I'll never get used to that ... animal of yours! She bit me thrice when I was trying to get your letter off her leg. Reckon she needs some telling off!_

Refusing to feel amused at his attempt to smudge the word ' _bloody'_ before animal in his postscript, I lifted my head to look at Lacey, feeling and definitely looking less than satisfied. I thought of the name Clara repeatedly in my head, trying to recall how she looked like.

It was no use considering every one of her French relatives looked like tall privileged supermodels with devil horns, pointed tails, and sharp teeth.

"You're going to France?" Lacey asked with a look of utter pity.

"I don't know if this is worse," I said dryly. "My mum's coming to London instead. And she's bringing one of my cousins."

"Merlin, which one? Tell me it's a boy!" Lacey jumped excitedly.

"Her name is Clara and I can't even remember how she looks like," I said. "The few times I've been to France, I don't think I've actually had a conversation with her."

"Chance to get to know the French side then?" Lacey suggested with an optimistic look on her face. "Come on, Mon. At least you get to stay. You can even visit me during the holidays!"

Feeling a bit better, I sighed and stuffed the letter in my bag. I knew Lacey was right and worst case scenario was having to fly to France in the first place. I scribbled a short thank you note to my dad for his efforts and sent Tallie off after she demanded a couple more treats.

Lacey gave me an approving look and continued with her breakfast. I rolled my eyes and sipped on my goblet.

"Maybe she won't even be that bad," Lacey said.

"Who won't be that bad?"

I jumped at the newcomer's voice and watched open-mouthed as the Marauders took the empty spaces next to Lacey and I. Swiftly scanning down the Gryffindor table, I realized it was the only space left big enough for them to sit together for breakfast.

I cursed my luck, wondering why Merlin was so determined to keep them in such close proximity ever since the full moon encounter. Sitting together during the Quidditch match was surely a well-devised plan by Sirius Black to keep an eye on us and seeing Black in the library a couple of days ago was definitely a coincidence, but today was proof that I just had rubbish luck.

I tried to give Lacey a pointed look, telepathically telling her that it was time to subtly leave, but it seems our bond as best friends didn't go that far as of yet. She stared blankly at Remus Lupin, who was the one who initially spoke, and was unable to formulate a coherent reply.

I was worried she was speechless due to fear that a werewolf had addressed her, and I was ready to tell her off for her (un)surprising lack of tact, but she suddenly spoke before I could.

"Does it hurt?" she asked, looking immensely concerned.

I took another look at Lupin and gasped at the large gash running down his cheek, past his ear, and to the base of his neck. It looked like an old scar that people didn't tend to notice at first glance but once someone pointed it out, it seemed more visible than ever.

"It doesn't anymore," Lupin replied shyly, avoiding Lacey's eye.

"Looks like Madame Pomfrey did a good job," I said, trying to lighten up the mood. "I didn't even notice."

Lupin surprisingly smiled and said, "Thanks."

"You didn't answer his question," Black butt in as he piled his plate with toast. "Who were you two ladies talking about?"

I snapped, "I think that's hardly any of your business," as Lacey said at the same time, "Monica's snooty cousin from France."

I shot her a dark look as she continued to sip her goblet, batting her eyelashes in feigned innocence.

Taking notice of the rest of their group, Black looked uninterested in the conversation he just started as he placed jam on his bread, Pettigrew seemed to be cramming a reading for Charms, and Potter stuffed himself with porridge.

"You're from France?" Potter asked, porridge dripping down the side of his mouth.

"Disgusting, Prongs," Lupin said, face twisted.

When Potter swallowed and wiped the porridge off his face, I decided to humor the conversation and answer his question.

"Born and raised in London, so no," I said.

"But you've got a French cousin," Black deadpanned.

"That is correct," I said, eye twitching.

Black and Potter blinked dumbly at me.

"Okay, we're missing something here."

"Clearly, Black, because I can't possibly live in London and have a French cousin at the same time," I snapped, losing my temper a bit. "She's from my mum's side and I live with my dad! Jesus, do you lot share one brain?"

"Who's Jesus?" Pettigrew added in.

"That's it, we're going to Potions," I said, standing up from my seat and gesturing for Lacey to do the same.

"Merlin, Dyer, we were only asking," Potter said with a roll of his eyes. "Come on, sit down."

I pursed my lips and stared back at the four strange boys who wouldn't let my best friend and I have peace. I realized my prolonged standing was getting the attention of the students around us and when I tried to give Lacey a pleading look, she was conveniently too busy admiring the Great Hall ceiling.

As soon as I heard whispering, I sat back down on the bench and begrudgingly regarded the Marauders once again.

"You know, people are going to wonder why you're talking to us," I said, hoping that would ward them off.

"Are we not allowed to have friends?" Black said with an eyebrow raised.

"No, but we're not exactly the type of people your lot has breakfast with."

Lacey decided it was a good time to join the conversation and said, "Monica's just a bit averse to attention."

Trying not to feel too insulted, I felt the heat rise up to my cheeks and made a mental note to strangle Lacey later. Truth be told, the Marauders made me uncomfortable in ways I couldn't really explain. They were complete opposite the type of people I would like to associate with on a regular basis and I didn't think they were too keen to be around me either.

I understood I'd always been on guard around people and I'd never really been the most open person, but that didn't give Lacey the right to speak for me, especially to people I barely even knew.

"Look, we didn't choose to sit here," Lupin said, ever the peacemaker. "We were late to breakfast and these were the only seats left. We apologize for being rude and barging in your conversation. Why don't we start over?"

I looked at him warily. Considering everything we had been through, the last thing I wanted was to carry along as chums. I would take his secret to my grave and continue to admire his friends for their loyalty, but being other than unfortunate acquaintances would be a big mistake.

Although when Lacey looked at me with an encouraging smile on her face, my doubts fell through. I sighed and genuinely smiled at Lupin.

"Fine," I said. "I'm sorry for being a bitch."

"No offense taken, Dyer," Potter said with a cocky smirk. "You've got a mouth on you. I'm semi-impressed."

"Thanks," I said dryly.

"We would like to say, however," Black began, "that _we_ decide what sort of lot we have breakfast with and I could hardly give a shit what Hogwarts thinks…" He paused. "Though you and Fenwick should still consider yourselves lucky."

"Oh, please," I scoffed.

"Call me Lacey please," Lacey said, looking miffed. "Fenwick's my brother."

"So you are related to Benjy Fenwick from Hufflepuff?" Lupin asked.

Lacey nodded as Black said, "Well, if that's the case then I don't wanna hear any last names going around here. I need not constantly be reminded I'm a Black, anyway."

I remained silent as I tried to run my eyes over the peculiar group of seventh year boys. They were being unusually friendly but I decided I wasn't exactly the best person to judge whether or not their actions were unusual. I hardly knew them, yet it was difficult to admit that perhaps they were nicer than I initially thought.

The Marauders were Hogwarts' source of juicy gossip and entertainment. As far as I knew, they lived to be in the spotlight and their massive egos were reflective of that assumption.

It was no lie that James Potter and Sirius Black spent the majority of their Hogwarts years intimidating Slytherins and asserting their seniority to first years. Peter Pettigrew was known to do anything Potter and Black would tell him to so he's been highly involved in much of their trouble. Remus Lupin definitely had a tamer reputation but rumor has it he's abused his prefect status to cover for his friends. Ever since Potter was appointed Head Boy, it was assumed they've gotten away with nearly everything which would explain their significant lack of attendance in detention since the year started.

I wouldn't know any of this if it weren't for Becca and Polly's incessant chatter about the latest Marauder updates in their dormitory but surprisingly I actually remembered what they've been saying.

The point came down to this possible _association_ (friendship seemed like a bit of a stretch) between Lacey and I and the Marauders. First name basis shouldn't be a big deal for anyone else but I was me and I had to make it a big deal in my head.

The stress must have shown in my face because Lacey suddenly spoke and said, "I think Monica prefers Dyer."

"No, actually," I quickly said, not wanting to look like some kind of freak. "Monica's fine."

I saw Black (or _Sirius_ ) tilt his head, unblinking, before saying "Alright, then. Wotcher, Monica."

I gave him a tight smile and quickly finished my breakfast in silence. The only two who continued the conversation were Lacey and Remus while the rest of the Marauders chatted amongst themselves. I checked my watch and for the first time in my life I was relieved to have to rush to Potions.

"Time to go, Lacey," I said brusquely, gathering my things as I stood from the bench.

"Oh, right," Lacey said, doing the same. "Slughorn's going to kill me if I'm late again."

"At least you know he'd never invite you to the Slug Club."

Lacey nodded furiously in agreement and hurriedly readied her belongings. The four boys watched in amusement and Potter – or _James_ , I suppose – spoke before I could awkwardly start the goodbyes.

"You two have never been to a Slug Club Party?"

"We'd rather party with the Bloody Baron" Lacey said.

I nodded in full agreement.

"That's just no good," Black – _Sirius_ (I've got to start getting used to it) – said with a loud guffaw. "You can't possibly go to Hogwarts and _not_ attend a single one of his dreadful parties. Even Wormtail's been invited!"

"Oh, trust me, Slughorn would rather share a room with You-Know-Who than invite Lacey to his exclusive dinner parties," I said humorously. "And I'm her best friend so I sort of get the receiving end of his hatred as well. Or at least he likes to pretend I just don't exist."

"Slughorn can't hate you _that_ much," James said to Lacey.

"Oh, he does," she replied swiftly.

James tilted his head, eyes alight as if blessed with a brilliant idea.

"Brilliant," he said with a growing grin on his face. "You're coming with me this Christmas then. Sirius and I get invites all the time but usually we just bring Peter and Remus as our plus ones."

I blinked at him in surprise and turned to look at Lacey who was, as expected, positively nauseous.

"No bloody way," she said immediately. "He'd give me detention just by being in his office."

"Come on, Lacey, it'd be hilarious," James said, grinning from ear to ear. "Imagine me, his favorite student–"

"Third favorite," Sirius interrupted.

"His _favorite student_ ," James repeated with a swift glare at his best friend, "showing up with his mortal enemy! Imagine the look on his face! Best case scenario, he'll stop inviting me completely."

Lacey shook her head furiously. "Nope, no, no way. Slughorn terrifies me!"

"Doesn't terrify you enough to stop being late to his classes," I said mockingly.

"If she goes, does that mean I don't have to?" Peter spoke up, hope in his eyes.

"No way, that means _I_ don't have to," Remus countered.

I watched in amusement as they bickered about who would get to sit out the Slug Club Christmas party if Lacey ended up humoring James' plan and went as his plus one. James continued to try and convince Lacey that it would be the most hysterical thing to see Slughorn's reaction at her attendance.

Somehow I ended up staring at Sirius who merely watched Remus and Peter bicker, boredom in his stormy gray eyes. As if sensing it, he lifted his head up and caught my gaze. I swiftly shifted to look at Lacey and hurriedly reminded her that we needed to get a move on.

"You'll get your third detention of the year if we don't get a move on, Lace."

"Right," she mumbled and finally swung her bag over her shoulder.

We waved our goodbyes and James comically shouted, "Think about the children, Lacey!" at our backs.

I snickered as we made our way to the dungeons. Lacey still looked uncomfortable next to me. James' determination to piss Slughorn off was very amusing and as hard as it was to admit, he actually seemed like a okay fellow to be around. Despite being Head Boy, the lighthearted prankster in him never seemed to have left but he surprisingly didn't resemble the type of person I imagined in my head before I really met him. It was like he genuinely just wanted to have fun, and that was a trait I gladly welcomed in the Wizarding World's current depressing state.

Sirius, on the other hand, showed clear signs of growing up. He was a bit more serious (mind the pun) and his aura had definitely changed over the years. Sure, there were plenty of moments when he'd have a mischievous grin on his face or trip a random first year but it seemed even he, the loudest, most rebellious and entertaining boy Hogwarts knew, was undeniably affected by the war.

No one was safe, I supposed.

"What do you think, Monica?"

Snapping out of my thoughts, I apologetically looked at Lacey, clueless of the topic of conversation she'd come up with.

"I'm sorry?"

"I said I can't possibly attend a Slug Club event," Lacey said calmly as we turned a corner to the Potions hallway. "Slughorn would kick my arse out before I could get my hands on an appetizer. That'd be way too embarrassing."

"I don't know, it sounds hilarious to me," I said truthfully, chuckling at the thought. "Slughorn can't have a fit 'cause he'll be surrounded by all the important people he so prides himself for knowing. I can just imagine his face getting all red and whatever Ministry official asking him what's wrong. Oh, hell, imagine if he was forced to introduce you to one of his connections! _HA_!"

I burst into a fit of laughter just as we reached the doors. Lacey pushed them open as I tried to suppress my giggles, but they immediately died out at the sight of the entire class staring blankly at the both of us and Slughorn standing disgruntledly in front.

"Welcome, ladies," he said, eye twitching as he glanced at the wall clock. "Will you look at that? Only three minutes late, Miss Fenwick. That must be a new record for you."

"I actually have been on time before so I think zero minutes is my record, sir," Lacey said snootily, temper surprisingly getting the better of her.

Slughorn, however, stood his ground. "I apologize, but I don't quite recall a time you've been in class before me, Miss Fenwick. Thirty points from Gryffindor."

" _Bloody–_!"

I grabbed Lacey's wrist before she followed that sentence with something worse. I felt her exhale to relax but her hands still shook in rage.

"It was only three minutes, sir," she reasoned.

"Think of it as ten points per minute," Slughorn said with a fake smile. "In fact, I'll take another ten for cheek."

Lacey stared at him open-mouthed but he was unfazed, returning to face the blackboard and scribbled today's potion with his wand.

"Get to your seats, ladies," he drawled as he wrote. "You'll find yourselves separated for this lecture. All double seats are taken."

Only just noticing the unusual seating arrangement, there were indeed no empty double seats for Lacey and I to take and partner up. I noticed the Ravenclaw couple, Timothy Schwartz and Elaine Wiley, who usually settled as Potions partners sitting separately this time around. Timothy sat next to his friend, Jim Abbey, and Elaine sat in a table alone, leaving an empty seat next to her.

The only other vacant seat was next to a dark-haired boy whose face I couldn't determine as he stared fixedly at Slughorn's writing on the blackboard. Judging by his robes however, he was a Slytherin.

Lacey and I exchanged wide-eyed looks and after a split second, we raced to the empty seat next to Elaine. She squeaked at the sight of us hurtling towards her but with a determined burst, Lacey crashed on the chair, arms hugging the table for support.

I growled at her look of victory and nearly smacked her head with my bag. Barely managing to keep my composure, I sulked to the last empty chair and dejectedly plopped next to the Slytherin. I internally prayed to Merlin I wasn't sitting next to a Death Eater before finally turning to look who ended up becoming my Potions partner for the day.

Familiar gray eyes sent a jolt up my spine and I realized I had to work with Regulus Black.

"Bloody jinx," I mumbled to myself.

"What?" he said.

"N–Nothing," I stammered embarrassedly, focusing my eyes on Slughorn instead as I cursed Merlin for allowing this.

I decided I was never going to pray to him for anything again, seeing as he'd just give me the exact opposite. I said don't seat me next to a Death Eater and he gave me possibly the worst one.

I breathed in and out to calm myself, wondering perhaps if I was being overdramatic. Maybe I was just being biased because he always caught the Snitch against us. Being a bloody good Seeker on the rival team didn't make him the most dangerous Death Eater. Of course not.

Heck, I wasn't even sure if he was a Death Eater. I'd only ever heard rumors.

Eventually I managed to calm down after deciding he couldn't possibly _Avada_ me in a room full of students and a skilled professor. I thought of our encounter at the library when I almost thought he was Sirius. I didn't seem so scared then; but the run-in was so quick that I barely remembered what he was and where he was from.

"Love potions."

I curiously zoned back into class.

"Very tricky little things," Slughorn said with a glint in his eye. "I personally wouldn't include this topic in my curriculum but Hogwarts seems to deem it important enough. Thankfully, I'm entitled to tweak the lessons a bit. Make it a bit more school-friendly."

"Why's that, sir?" Carter Robins asked from the corner. I nearly sighed in pathetic admiration.

"Well, because love potions can be very dangerous, Mister Robins," Slughorn said patiently. "When used selfishly for one's own gain, it can yield disastrous results. Love potions do not produce actual love, you see? Only very intense, very strong infatuation. An obsession, you might call it. And none of it is real.

"So I'd like you to think of a woman, perhaps, who slips a love potion to a man she desperately wants to be with. The affection he returns whilst on the influence of a love potion is completely unreal and unnatural. It will only cause more pain, suffering, and loneliness to the one truly in love."

A pregnant pause settled in the room. The students were unusually interested in today's lesson and it seemed to please Slughorn, considering he hasn't glared at Lacey since we got here.

"If you look to your left, you'll see a line of four cauldrons, each with their own type of love potion," Slughorn continued as the students craned their necks to see the cauldrons he was referring to.

They were four in a line, each releasing a unique set of colorful steam and bubbles. I hadn't noticed them until Slughorn's mention and suddenly I couldn't tear my eyes away. The table I shared with Regulus may have been one of the closest, or at least that's what it felt like.

I was drawn to one particular cauldron that emitted spirals of steam that seemed to change color at every completed ring. I wanted to get closer, to know what it was. For some particular reason, all I wanted was to take a peak at its contents and maybe take a whiff. It must have smelled extraordinary… Just a little bit closer and I would…

 _Clink! Clink! Clink! Clink!_

The cauldron's lids magically hovered and closed their openings one by one. I dumbly blinked out of my trance when the last cauldron was covered and I realized I had leant so far down the table that my head hovered right in front of a bewildered Regulus Black.

With a frightened squeak, I immediately sat properly on my chair and scooted as far from Regulus as I could. My embarrassment somewhat waned when I realized I wasn't the only person caught in a trance. Most girls and some boys were just snapping out of it and fixing themselves back on their seats.

"Usually the aroma of four love potions in the area would be enough garner a reaction such as the one you have just felt," Slughorn began to explain. "But those four included one very curious potion. A curious potion, indeed."

Carter raised his hand, looking a bit shaken.

"Mister Robins?"

"Amortentia," he said. "The most powerful love potion in the world. They say smelling it would resemble your deepest attractions."

"Yes, indeed." Slughorn nodded. "And made by yours truly! Unfortunately, Amortentia is especially tricky to make and very time-consuming. Its procedure will not fit well with students and certainly not with anyone harboring irresponsible views of the world. No, no. You will be doing something much more practical.

"You will be choosing one from the other three love potions I have presented over there. They are Cupid Crystals, Beguiling Bubbles, and Twilight Moonbeams. They're quite tame love potions that are easily cured by a simple antidote you can find on page fifty-three of your books. Once you've picked from the three, you are to replicate that specific love potion as well as brew the antidote that will successfully counter its effects."

"Two potions today, sir?" Elaine Wiley said, agitated. "I'm not sure if we'll even finish one. The love potion alone would have to sit for two weeks before it's ready."

"Which is why I'll be giving three weeks for this project, just in time before the Christmas holidays. Consider this your final exam of the term, " Slughorn said jovially. "Oh! I almost forgot. You will be working in pairs for this assignment so I suggest you start to get to know your current seatmates."

I tried not to groan out loud. I really did. So when the low, growling sound of my disappointment escaped through my lips, I had the tact to look embarrassed. I snuck a glance at Regulus who had yet to say a word since his befuddled response at my muttering earlier. He didn't even mention my totally creepy trance at the love potion.

Thankfully he didn't seem too bothered by my distress since he looked rather disconcerted as well. He wrinkled his nose once and narrowed his eyes at Slughorn.

I reluctantly turned my attention back to the Potions professor as he explained today's task.

"Today, I only ask you decide which of the three love potions to brew with your partner, divide the tasks, and head to the library to do your research. Remember, none of those love potions are included in your Potions books. Now, carry on and good luck!"

The classroom burst into chatter as pairs began to plan. I glanced at Lacey who looked almost as disgruntled as I was while she listened to Elaine who looked to be bossing her around with instructions. I sighed and turned to Regulus but I was surprised to see he was gone from his seat.

Panicked, I scanned the classroom to see if he'd bolted, possibly appalled by the idea of working together with a filthy Gryffindor. I almost slapped myself when I spotted him by the love potions, probably deciding on which to brew while I uselessly cooked up random assumptions in my head.

I stumbled out of my chair to join him.

"Any ideas?" I asked, scanning the three love potions.

I was particularly drawn to the one that emitted red and gold springs of steam, hopping around the cauldron like a child bouncing on a trampoline. It was odorless and almost clear with a hint of pink.

"I was thinking we should do this one," Regulus said, voice quiet but very firm.

He pointed at the same one I was interested in so I smiled and nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, that one looks fun," I said.

"Yes, well, it shouldn't be too difficult either," he said, still not meeting my eye. "I've seen my cousin brew it herself in her room. So it should be doable."

I decided asking why his cousin was brewing a bloody love potion in her bedroom was too intrusive.

"So how would you like to do this?" I asked him instead.

"We can head to the library tomorrow after dinner," he answered quickly, finally looking me in the eye. "We'll find everything we need for the potion there. I think this one's called the Cupid Crystals."

"What about now?" I said, confused. "That's why Slughorn's giving us this period. You know, to do our research."

Regulus glanced at the clock. "I've got somewhere to be."

"During class hours?" I cocked my head.

His eyes flashed. "Yes, it just came up."

"How convenient," I said dryly.

Regulus sighed impatiently. "Look, I'm not doing this to skive off homework, okay? We'll work on this tomorrow."

I kept my mouth shut simply because I didn't want to him to offer me as food to his fellow Death Eater friends if I pissed him off enough. Or I don't know, use me for target aim when they practice their _Avadas_.

When I didn't speak, Regulus walked back to our desk to gather his things and swiftly made his way to the door. I saw Slughorn give him a curious look which transferred to me as he probably wondered why I, his project partner, wasn't following him out.

Disgruntledly I mimicked him by packing up my things and briskly walking to the door, making it look like I was following him out. I noticed Lacey was gone as well. I figured she was dragged to the library by Elaine as soon as Slughorn sent them off.

Just as I left the room, I heard raised voices by the corner. I halted in place, recognizing the docile tone.

"I don't know else to do for you, Reg! Merlin's _sodding_ beard!"

"I don't need a bloody babysitter, Sirius! Just leave me the hell alone!"

I froze at the shuffling sound of footsteps but no one appeared from the corner of the hall.

"Reg, wait! Don't you walk away from me!"

"Don't touch me!"

I heard a shove and a beat of silence passed.

"Did you just push me?"

"I told you not to bloody touch me! That's what you get!"

"I'm trying to help you, Reg. Just let me help you. You don't have to do this alone."

Reg made a sarcastic noise. "Don't you understand? You are nothing to me, Sirius. You bloody left! You're nothing to me, to the family, and to anyone who matters! Why would you even _think_ I would need _your_ help?"

Sirius couldn't answer quick enough nor was I able to continue walking and pretend I wasn't eavesdropping at all. I was glued in place when Regulus appeared from the corner. He took one look at me and I stared back. The rational part of me was telling me to just continue walking and never mention it again, but I just stood there, gaping.

"Library after dinner tomorrow," Regulus surprisingly said, tone even and eyes vacant. "Don't forget."

Then he went on his way, not looking back. I was still frozen in place, completely clueless as to why. It didn't seem like a groundbreaking thing to discover that Sirius and his brother didn't get along. It was always a well-known fact. Perhaps it was just strange to hear him express that sort of concern.

Sirius walked out of the corner and saw me as well. Surprisingly he didn't look as stressed as he sounded just a minute ago. His light aura was in place as he regarded me curiously.

"Library after dinner?" he said with a raised eyebrow.

"Potions project," I said snippily, the feeling in my limbs returning at the sudden burst of annoyance.

I resumed my stride, determined to walk past him and use my free time wisely. Unfortunately he fell into my pace and remained next to me as I walked.

"I've got a question for you, Dyer," he said, almost panting to keep up with me. "Merlin, do you always walk this fast?"

"Only when I'm avoiding someone," I said, staring straight ahead. "I thought we're letting go of surnames?"

"Avoiding someone, are you?" he said. "Sorry, force of habit, Monica."

My eyes flickered to his direction at the sound of him using my real name. It was a strange thing to hear.

"Yes, but that very person can't seem to get the memo that it's him," I said.

"Ouch," Sirius said, not sounding hurt in the least. "All I want is to ask a simple question."

We turned a sharp corner and the Fat Lady's painting came to view at the end of the hall. I sighed in relief.

"Well, I'm not stopping you." I gave in, knowing I'd be in the safety of the girl's dormitory soon anyway.

"Go with me to Slughorn's Christmas party."

My heart stuttered and I stopped walking. Sirius stopped too. The Fat Lady peered down at us from her painting, expecting us to give the password, but I found myself gaping in shock the second time that day at another Black.

"That's not a question," I said.

"James thought Lacey would be more willing to help him freak Slughorn out if I asked you to come with me," Sirius explained quickly, knowing he'd finally gotten my full attention. "What do you say?"

I felt a slight twist in my stomach and oddly found myself significantly more vexed.

"No," I said dryly.

"Oh, come on, Monica," Sirius said, looking frustrated. "It'll be hilarious!"

"Don't call me that," I snapped, feeling the rise of my temper.

"But we're friends."

"We're not friends," I said, regretting it immediately but I couldn't stop. "I barely know you and you don't know me at all."

"Oh, come on, this is rubbish," Sirius said. "We just said we would start over in the Great Hall. Lacey doesn't seem to be bothered by us anymore. I don't get why you have to be such a shrew!"

I felt like I was punched hard in the gut. People had called me names before and they weren't particularly nice to hear. But for some reason being called a shrew by Sirius Black seemed to hurt the most.

My throat was constricted and my eyes swelled up. I turned away from him immediately and yelled out, "Occlumency!" as the tears started running down my cheeks.

 _Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic_ , I thought. But it was too late. By the time I ran in the common room, my eyes were too cloudy to see where I was going. I stumbled towards the girl's staircase and sprinted up to my dormitory, leaving a bewildered Sirius by the portrait hole.

* * *

 _ **A/N: Hi guys! I'm sorry this took so long but I've been so busy. I'm in college so you know what it's like. Anyway I'd appreciate if you left some reviews. It would mean so much.**_

 _ **I hope this chapter was alright and I'd love to hear your thoughts about the characters and the current happenings in my story. Thanks and see you all soon!**_

 _ **-Finner**_


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